The other day, sitting on the bus while it crawled towards home in a traffic jam, I was reading my book:
I reached the end of a chapter and looked up from the page, through the window of the bus. We were sitting in traffic outside a pub, and in my seat, I was right next to the window of the bar, with a direct view inside. And who should I spy through the window, quietly supping his pint?
The author of the book I was holding in my hand, Roger McGough.
Odd when worlds collide and align like that. Like when you’re reading the paper and listening to the radio and the announcer says the exact word you’re reading at that moment.
Serendipitous synchronicity. Synchrondipity.
this post is kind of serendipitous for me too.
i visited london last week and saw roger mcgough in a pub having his sunday dinner. and recalling how much i liked his poetry i ordered his autobiography from the library…
and this post reminded me to go pick it up!
Yes, I have had that kind of experience once in a while. Knocks you for a loop. But I remember reading Karl Jung, who said the world is full of co-incidences. He also warned people not to make too much of them (if I remember that well enough–its been like thirty years since I read that.) Its just a matter of paying attention, I believe.